


The Crazy

by DagReaper (TyJaxReaper)



Series: Odd Pairings [20]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Barebacking, Begging, Bottom Derek, Daredevil s02e04-ish, Derek In Hell's Kitchen, Dominance, Fist Fights, Frank is a tease, Fucking, Hand Jobs, Intimacy, M/M, Mid Fight Erections, Moaning, Nurse Derek, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pet Names, Rimming, Rough Sex, Rutting, Top Frank, Violence, hurt Frank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-01 23:26:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6541057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyJaxReaper/pseuds/DagReaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Well, that's one way to keep him here," the Devil of Hell's Kitchen commented emotionlessly and Frank turned to look at the still tired body lying on the bed, but his eyes were open now, half-lidded and clearly half dead to everything as of right now.</p><p>      "Shut up," was his answer, he didn't sound shamed either, he was more exhausted than anything. He didn't sound regretful, which he was happy about.</p><p>      "You okay, Hale?" Hale? Was that his name? It fitted him. It sounded nice and wild, something this guy clearly was.</p><p>      "Other than feeling like I just took a train up the ass? Yeah, perfectly fine,"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Crazy

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really seriously proud of this piece and happy I finally managed to get it done. I really hope you enjoy this huge piece of perversion that I love so much xD 
> 
> Also, it's around the time that Frank's supposed to be handed over to the cops. Matt takes him to Derek instead :)

      When he moved from Beacon Hills, he didn’t think he’d have any more problems or trouble from anyone or anything. Gerard and Kate were the worst of it, the Alpha Pack coming close in second place. But... the world just wanted to bend him over and fuck him, again and again. He was pissed off, anyone could probably tell as of right now.

 

 

      At first he just thought he’d call an ambulance or something, until he reminded himself that the Devil of Hell’s kitchen asked him specifically to hide the guy, like he trusted him enough to do so. The red-suited man was hurt, like seriously hurt, but he told Derek to help the unconscious guy, to patch him up and keep him at his apartment until he returned. Did he really think about what he requested? He asked a civilian to keep the Punisher, of all people, hidden. Don’t get him wrong, he’d be able to. But the Devil shouldn’t know that, he was just a man under that mask, right? He shouldn’t know that Derek could easily keep this guy down. Or maybe, just maybe, he did know what he was and knew he could handle himself. But how? Derek never said anything in the minimal time they talked and even sparred.

      Derek watched the huge body from the door-frame, his gaze strong and his senses as sharp as possible. The man was dangerous, he knew this, from the news, his apprehensive senses and from the Devils’ warning, so he wouldn’t take any chances. He was pretty beaten up when he was first passed onto him by the Devil, gashes everywhere, deep cuts and a lot of bruises covered almost every inch of him. It was like he’d been in one of those ‘to the death’ cage fights that permitted knives and guns. He assumed that the man in red and this guy had a huge fight or something. They were both as beaten up as each other, the Punisher, maybe more so.

      He was snapped from his thoughts when he felt the guys’ heartbeat pick up, a rough groan leaving his lips and Derek just stared at the man,hating how he instantly started glaring daggers at him when he caught his figure in the doorway.

      The wolf didn’t move or make any expression, he just stared, watching him, searching him. The other man did the same, but only for a few seconds before he tried to push himself up, resting on his elbows. He looked down at himself, his deeply knitted browline twitching slightly, probably at the freshly cleaned and bandaged body, wearing a baggier pair of Derek’s bedpants. He had to find every wound and clean them, which included stripping him and getting the gashes on his legs as well. Plus, his clothes were covered in blood, so he shoved them in the wash for him. Hopefully he’d be a little grateful for the wolf going out of his way.

      Again, he was dragged from his thoughts, but this time it was because the guy grunted achingly as he pushed himself up to sit and then swung his legs over the side of the bed.

      “I’d take a few hours if I were you,” he finally spoke, his tone deep, rough and tired from lack of sleep. He was relieved it was his day off tomorrow and the day after, otherwise he’d be falling asleep at work. “Unless you want to re-open your wounds,” he added, seeing him glare at him again, a bit of fire behind it. Derek just returned it, a lot more animalistic wrath behind it. He had to refrain from letting a growl seep through his lips. He just made him so edgy and apprehensive and he could feel his heckles rising.

      The guy just stopped and seemed to relax on the spot, his muscles slackening just a little. He was clearly military, or ex-military, what with the way he scanned and searched and sat there, his back straight. There was a certain way he held himself, too. It reminded him of his own father.

      “Why’d you patch me up,” it was like he ordered him to answer, no request or question, just a downright, blunt command to answer him. He was authoritive and firm and it confirmed his thinking of him being a military man.

      “... Reasons,” he replied sharply, with a slight bite in his tone. Derek reached down into the corner where a table sat, a glass of water sitting on top of it. He grabbed it and cautiously stepped away from the door, walking into the room and over to his bed, where the man had been resting and was now sitting stiffly.Derek watched him cautiously as he got closer and closer, his senses straining to not waver at his dominance. He carefully put the glass down next to the pain-pills pack on the bedside table and stepped away, moving back until he was at the door again.

 

      Derek was happy that he tossed every weapon he had into the spare room of his apartment, he felt calmer, safer. He’d be able to take him on if he didn’t have his weapons, and by the look on his face, he wanted to leave, so he’d probably want his stuff back.

      “You’re working for the Devil,” if this was any other guy, he’d probably retort with a little quip, something like ‘I’m not religious’ or something, but considering it wasn’t just ‘any other guy’...

      “I don’t work for him. He just dumped you on me and told me to patch you up,” he said firmly, not even bothering to lie while eyeing the man that was still sitting there stiffly. “Against my better judgement, I did,” he added honestly, seeing the faint and soft narrowing of his eyes. He was searching him now, judging him.

      “Gimme my guns and I’ll be outta your hair,” he gambled, seeming to think that Derek didn’t want him there. He wasn’t exactly wrong. The wolf felt completely apprehensive and out of place and everything lacked his feeling of safety since the Punisher, of all people, was sitting on his bed, all hurt and cornered. They were both anxious and wanted the other gone. Derek wanted him gone, and the guy wanted to be gone. But, then he’d have a problem. The Devil would come back to see that he wasn’t there and then he’d be in shit for it. So, letting him leave wasn’t an option.

      “Can’t do that,” the wolf muttered, his eyes set firmly on the man that seemed to suddenly change. He went from his stiff and searching persona to a predator. His eyes were almost scarily steady and his body was solid and eased. He almost reminded him of a deadly creature stalking something, that something currently being Derek. The wolf went from predator to prey in a matter of seconds.

      His heart skipped when he saw the guy easily and calmly stand up, ignoring his injuries like they weren’t even there, his body and posture so smooth, dominant and deadly that the wolf actually felt like whining in submission. He wasn’t going to, he didn’t want to. He wasn’t weak. He’d been a Beta, an Omega and an Alpha, and he’d fought off worse before. This was just a man with a lot of strength and was completely menacing and dominant.

      He didn’t think there was any point in talking the guy down. He actually seemed like a cornered predator, and cornered predators were dangerous, deadly, lethal. Derek would be able to make it out of this, but not without being hurt or injured in the process.

      The wolf snapped from his rigid position when the other guy lunged at him, his fist coming around for a punch, a strike that missed when he stepped and leaned a little back. He swung again, with the other hand and he’d only just managed to back up again. He was a few steps away from having his back to the wall, the way to his bedroom being a single narrow hallway. Derek brought his arm up when he went to strike again, the fist clashing with his forearm. He was strong and he clearly meant to hurt him from the force and the way his fist was angled. If that had actually made contact, he might’ve had a broken jaw.

      Derek pushed the arm away and swiftly stepped forward, rocking his head back and then slamming it forward, their foreheads connecting in a harsh, spine chilling crack. He didn’t need to worry about his own skull, werewolves grew stronger bones and had a solider structure. He’d have to worry about this guys’ though.

      He was literally pulled from his thoughts by the Punisher, his hands reaching out to grip his forearm and bicep in a vice-like hold. Derek was dragged forward and turned, his spine slamming into the wall, half on the corner of the doorframe as he was lifted up off of the ground. He’d arched a little away from it, the wood having dug deep into his back and he unintentionally let out a little whine, along with a n animalistic growl.

      “Bad move,” he would assume he was talking about when he head-butted him. Derek reached out and tried grabbing at the mans’ arm, the ones that were holding him up. He kicked his leg out, hoping to hit him hard in his mid section, but it looked like he saw it coming and swayed his hips a little to the side and then quickly stepped in close, his chest pressed against Derek stomach and the wolfs’ crotch on the guys stomach. They were aligned and held together, the man still holding on tight to him. Punisher pulled them both from the wall and spun, slamming him into the other wall behind them, a bit harder than before and again, he arched from the mild pain it gave him, unintentionally arching into the mans’warm mid-riff and rubbing against him... and then everything just stopped, the dark atmosphere, the rage, everything. He was just being held there, tight and solidly up against the wall by the Punisher.

 

      “... What was’at?” he asked after a few moments of silence, the only thing being heard was panting, mostly Dereks’, though the other guy was panting a little too. “That for me?” he asked with a wide, darkly amused smirk on his face. What did he mean by that?

      The wolf only frowned in confusion at him, tilting his head slightly in question and then shaking it, to show that he had no clue. It only lasted a few seconds though, because he was let down a little, his hot body slipping down the wall a couple of inches and then the man roughly rolled his-

      “ _Nngh_ ,” his body shook lightly, something not that different from the feeling of static shooting through his system. He was hot, too hot and he was mildly clammy, the temperature only seeming to go up when embarrassment set in. He quickly looked away, somewhere to the side and ignored the deep, cracky chuckle that left the man holding him.

      “C’mon, nothin’ to be ashamed about, puppy. I’m not new to gettin’ a semi when I duke it out,” he didn’t know whether he was being serious or he was just teasing him at this point. Either way he didn’t even glance at him, instead his brows deepened into a glare that was aimed at nothing. “Wanna feel mine?” he asked in a deep whisper, his mouth only inches from his ear when he said it. Derek didn’t actually get time to reply or even look at him incredulously when the man pushed his pelvis against his, both hard-ons’ pressing hard together and making the wolf tense up, going rigid in his hold with a strained groan as he tried holding the sound back.

      The grip on him loosened and the guys’ hands swiftly reached down to his legs, his fingers and palm snaking under the top half of his thighs, one hand was actually on his ass, both holding him up easily. He’d deny anyones’ accusation that he gasped when he was let go beforehand, and that he wrapped his legs tightly around the bigger guys’ waist and his arms around his shoulders.

      This was not happening. This was seriously not happening.

      He felt the Punisher roll his hips again, hard and rough against him and he unintentionally let out another tensed moan. He’d even bit his lip to try and keep the sound quiet. He was trying to focus on something else other than the hard-on being pressed against his own. Pain would do he guessed, it worked for other things.

      “C’mon now, puppy, let me hear that voice,” he could hear the amusement in his voice and it just made him inwardly growl, seething at the fact that he was basically teasing him, taunting him, taking pleasure out of making him this degraded. And what was with the damn pet-name? The Punisher definitely didn’t know what he was, and the growl he let out before wouldn’t have given him away. Maybe it was just that... a pet-name, something he just came out with.

      Derek practically jumped in the guys’ arms, with a little, inaudible yelp, when he felt something hot and moist on his neck, roughly sucking and open-mouth kissing his warm skin. He was just focused on that one spot and the wolf didn’t do anything about it, couldn’t for a few seconds. He was stunned, shocked and his body just reacted like it normally would to something like this. Derek was actually panting lightly, his hips and lower-waist involuntarily shifting in the man’s’ hold. It felt good and he hated that he just admitted that to himself.

      ... It was just physical venting, only to release, right? It wouldn’t hurt to indulge a little- whoa, whoa! The guy was hurt!

 

      At the sudden thought, he pulled his head back, his body tilting back until his entire back was against the wall out of reach of those damn lips.

      “Put me down, you’re hurt,” he frowned at him, his hands still on the bigger guys’ shoulders and he just chuckled deeply at him, a smirk growing on his face as he eyed him up and down against the wall. Derek didn’t like how a bit of excitement in his stomach grew at that look. He still looked hungry, reluctant and domineering to him.

      “Like that’s gonna stop me now,” after you just gave in to me. He was sure he left out. Derek basically did just that. He gave in for a few mere seconds and it looked like it amused the guy even more. His smirk was almost as animalistic as Derek as a whole. And he was a werewolf...

      He was pulled from his thoughts when he was pulled from the wall, his back getting a split-second chill as he was turned around and carried into the bedroom. He grunted when he was gracelessly dropped onto the bed, deciding to take the few seconds of freedom to turn over and try to crawl over the bed and away from the Punisher.

      “Where’d you think you’re goin’, sweetheart,” his hips were instantly gripped in a hot, hard hold and he was dragged back by his waist, now on his forearms and knees with his ass pressed up against the guys’ covered and very aroused cock. He could feel it through his thicker and warmer pair of bedpants and he was reluctant to admit that it felt good to feel something against him there. He inwardly keened and unintentionally arched the small of his back for a second, hoping that he hadn’t noticed.

      Derek assumed he didn’t when he didn’t say anything about it, no quip or taunt or chuckle, nothing. He felt a hot hand on his back though, where he’d lightly arched. There had been a bit of skin showing and that was where he ghosted his fingers, smoothing them up a little until he had his full hand on him, pressing down, but with no force. He closed his eyes at the feel, the warm skin on his and it was almost scarily intimate with the way he gently ran them up, his shirt rising with the hand. He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until both hands were on his sides, just above his ribs and they smoothly ran down his torso, again, being somewhat intimate with the touches.

      He practically leaned up into the hands when one moved to his hip again and gripped and the other ran back up his spine, pushing his shirt further up until his was above his shoulder-blades, and that was where Derek reached up and pulled the shirt over his head, his elbows never leaving the bed before he tossed it somewhere.

      “Nice tat,” he commented, the wolf feeling him follow one of the spirals of the Triskelion with his warm thumb. He felt the bed dip between his legs, the guy having put his knee there to lean closer behind him. He felt him wrap his arms around his waist and practically manhandle him a few feet across the bed, making him tense at the tight hold and breathe a little rough before he was put down on all fours again.

      Derek felt the hem of his bedpants being played with, the laces being pulled and they loosened around his waist, going slack at his hips. His breathing caught when the Punishers’ hands slipped under and grabbed the edges and slowly, almost teasingly pulled them down. Derek was actually anxious and he felt slightly needy, lusty. He was still a little concerned about his injuries, he was still human after all, but like he said, it wasn’t going to stop him.

 

      He had to resist the shiver that ran though his body when cold air passed his ass, warm hands slowly reaching up to rest on the small of his back and the other on a cheek. He fondled, gripping and groping and deeply chuckling when Derek unintentionally leaned back into the hold and groaned quietly to himself.

      "Not fightin' anymore, puppy?" it was a rhetorical question, and he could hear the clear and thick amusement in every word, taking so much pleasure in the fact that he really did give in to him. Derek would deny any accusation of this if asked. He'd more than likely clam up and turn away or leave or something. Though he doubted he'd see him after this. The Devil only dropped him here to get patched up. He was more than sure that he was his only option right now since the hospital staff was active because of the Punishers' victims. The Devil had another nurse that helped out and she was better than him at the stitching and bandaging.

      Derek barked a groan-ish grunt when he felt something wet and hot slid up between his cheek, purposefully running firmer over his hole and he was more than sure that it was the Punishers' tongue. He dropped his forehead into his forearms and ground his teeth for a few seconds.

      "Stop thinkin', puppy," he could feel the heated puffs of breath on the skin of his ass, warm and a little clammy. He groaned a little, hating that it wasn't as quiet as he wanted to be. The wolf felt the hot tongue again, slipping between his cheeks again and his back involuntarily arched, leaning back a little for more. It felt too good, too pleasurable and it was really hard to resist whining when the man dipped his tongue, the tip sliding in for a split-second before leaving.

\--------------------

      He couldn't help it, this guy was just too fucking gorgeous. Insanely gorgeous when he moaned or leaned back into him for some more friction. It was too hot, way beyond words Frank could come out with. He was no poet, and what he was mentally thinking about this guy was definitely not kid friendly, or adult friendly. This was pure lewd thinking of a guy that hadn't had sex and was pent up after a few days.

      Frank leaned back into the guys' space, sticking his tongue out as much as possible and widened it a bit before flattening it against the back of his sac and running it up between his ass cheeks with some pressure. He could feel the shudder he let out through the hand that was still pressed to the small of his back, keeping him still. He groaned deep too, a little muffled, probably from the bed. He liked the idea that maybe he was biting at the bed-sheet or something. It was a real turn on if he was a biter, though a screamer wouldn't be half bad either.

      He licked again, this time sticking his tongue in further and feeling the ring contract around him, twitching a little and he smirked against the guys' skin, feeling pretty victorious for the whine that left him. He stayed there for a few seconds, drawing his slick, hot muscle back and then pushing it in again, over and over, fucking the dude with his tongue. It was pretty hot and he really liked it when he felt him writhe a little, his hips not able to stay perfectly still. He had an affect on the guy and he was seriously proud of himself for this. He never actually been this into stuff with a guy. Yeah, he'd had sex and stuff, but he never felt so focused on the task of being a teasing basterd to rile the other man up. It was just sex, cum, done. This was lasting longer than any of the rounds he'd had with another guy. And he was completely focused on being a tease and making him squirm and whine, just to get him to beg a few times. He wanted to hear him beg, plead. He wanted him to submit to him completely, not just let it all happen by giving in. He wanted more than that.

      Frank shifted a little closer when he sank his tongue deeper, his mouth completely covering the hole. He sucked roughly and kissed with an open mouth, hearing him whine more and shift almost uncontrollably on the spot. He hoped that it was hard for him to think, to even speak with him doing all of this. He wanted the guy to see white and get light-headed and seriously dizzy when he finally got him to cum. The guy was practically quivering under his palm, like he was trying his best to stay calm and still. Obviously that wasn't working. He was trying to have at least a little control over himself and he felt a little prouder that he was making it hard for him to do so.

 

      The ex-military man gave a dirty smirk when he had an idea. A dirty one, completely matching the look he had. He hoped he didn't scare the shit outta the guy when he tried this.

      Frank pulled his mouth back and eyed his handy work- or mouth work. The guys' ass was completely sopping and looked pretty lubed up. He reaching his other hand to his hole, two thick finger tips prodding and then pressing in. He felt him tense a little, but it was more than likely from the intrusion, like when he stuck his tongue in deep the first time. The man pressed further in, feeling him start to ease up around. It was a go-ahead sign and he pushed in to the knuckles, feeling his ring contract a few times before they lessened and he loosened to the point he could get three in, and then four. He was careful, very careful. The guy was shaking lightly and trying to stay still. His breath was hitching and he was definitely biting at the bed-sheets to stay quiet.

      He pushed in and in until the first half of his hand was in, wide in comparison to his asshole. He was really quivering and shudder and he was panting.

      "Relax, sweetheart," he tried to ease him, the hand on his back making slow, warm, hopefully soothing circles. He wanted the guy to stay calm. He wasn't freaking about this yet and he was hopeful that he wouldn't.

      He could feel him listening, trying to do his best to calm down and relax. He was impressed. He didn't think someone could calm down with a fist about to be shoved into their ass.

      Frank waited a few seconds until he thought he was loose enough and calm enough before he bent his thumb into his palm and slowly, carefully started easing his hand in, further and further. He got to the curve of his thumb knuckle when the guy seezed up a little. He'd tensed and Frank wasn't sure if it was something he did, like hit a nerve or something, or the dude didn't like it.

      The thoughts were quickly shut down when he felt the ring unclench around him and the body slowly, hesitantly started moving back on him, a subtle back and forth motion, like he was trying to make it easier. Castle got the idea, understood it and he repeated the shifting, the guy stopping so he could do the work. It was easier if he did. He could see what he was doing. This guy couldn't. He only had the sense of feeling here. He had no idea what he was doing expect for feeling what he could take. He could easily tell him to stop and Frank would.

      The careful, gentle and soothing fist thrusts worked like a pinch. The guy was lightly whining and moaning through closed lips, groaning, his head in the sheets and on his arms. He was taking it easy and trying to stay calm while he fisted and fisted deeper and deeper. He was just up to the wrist, where his hand bones met he forearm bones. His whole hand was almost inside.

      " _Plea_ -," Frank didn't pause or stop when he heard the very breathy and panting sound. He glanced over to him though, catching his eyes over his shoulder. He looked really wrecked and ready. That was a plead right? Or half of one.

      "What was 'at, sweetheart?" he smirked widely and teasingly, purposefully, but slowly and carefully turning his hand on his inside, his palm now facing up and he gradually turned his flat hand into a fist, pushing and clearly having a huge affect on the guy. His entire body shuddered violently and he arched hard, the walls closing in tight around his fist. It just made him smirk darker and hungrier for him.

      " _Plea-... Please_ -," Frank jerked his fist, a quick and fir thrust that made him whine out-loud, no blanket between his teeth. He clearly had his prostate on that one. At least he found it and he didn't need his dick to do it. He knew where it was, so as soon as he had his cock inside- Oohhh, he was gonna have some fun.

 

      " _Please_ what, puppy?" he teased, a grin now on his face and he was practically beaming. He slowly turned his fist, knowingly scraping up against his spot and making him whine again. He swore it sounded like he sobbed that time.

      " _Fuck me_ ," he whimpered and that was all he needed. He was seriously beaming and felt completely victorious. Frank gave a deep, cracky chuckle before slowly and very carefully letting his fist unclench and slowly dragged his hand from the guys' insides, feeling him relax and gasp a few times when he pulled and tugged a little on his walls. It was amazing when he saw the way he almost followed. He really wanted something inside of him and Frank was going to oblige completely.

      Castle took pleasure in the fact that his whole hand was wet and warm, the guys' liquid insides having come out on him through the fisting.

      "Already on it, sweetheart," he leaned up behind the man and pushed his borrowed pants down, his rock hard dick spring out and brushing against the mans' upper-thighs, just between them and just under his sac, close enough that they brushed and he could feel the radiating heat around his cock. The guy was insanely hot, in both appearance and temperature and it felt almost inhuman to him, like someone shouldn't actually be that warm, even when he was having intense sex or was rigorously working out.

      He reaches down to grab the mid-way of his dick, tilting it up to press the wide width between his cheeks, rubbing up and down and smirking at the way his pre-cum smeared a little. He pressed forward, smoothly rocking his hips back and forth and getting a bit of friction on his thick, uncut cock.

      "Ready, puppy?" he asked rhetorically, leaning a little over him and using his free hand to stabilize himself, his hand pressed next to the guys' elbow. He was leaning over him, his eyes in-line with the tattoo on his back. "I'm gonna the fuck the hell outta you," he added deeply, quietly. It was a deep, cracky and rough whisper and he saw how it effected him. His body twitched and arched and he pushed back against his cock, rolling his hips and making him slide between his cheeks with a bit more pressure. He had to actually purse his lips in an 'O' shape and breathe gently to calm down a little.

      Frank eyes the body beneath him and then looked lower to angle himself right, the thick head of his shaft pressed against his ring. And he slowly, controllingly shifted his hips forward. It slipped in relatively easy. From the fisting earlier, no doubt, and he was comfortable enough to shift his hand away, moving to grip tight at his hip for more control. He let a rough sigh leave his chest and throat before he gave a few careful thrusts, bobbing his hips back and forth and slowly sheathing himself inside of the guy. He was still wrapped tightly around him, even after the fisting, but he wasn't complaining, not at all. It was fucking heaven.

      Castle started to get a steady rhythm, rocking his hips and rolling every now and again for a bit more friction. He knew where his prostate was, he was just being a tease until he was far enough in to scrape his head and a few inches more against him. The guy was relaxing, he could feel it. He was starting to push back with every low and slow thrust.

      Over a short amount of time, he started speeding up a little, his hips rolling a little faster and getting deeper and deeper. He was practically brushing his prostate already, hearing the guys' gasps and whines while he pushed back just as Frank pushed forward. They were meeting halfway and damn- did it feel good. He was clamping on him too, which made it better. He was doing it on purpose, probably trying to get him as close to the edge as the guy was himself.

      Castle rutted against him and decided to angle himself properly, feeling deep enough and happy enough to finally hit his mark dead on. And that was what he did.

      " _Fuck!_ " the guy curse roughly and deeply, his voice clearly warn and used. His entire body was buzzing against him, shuddering and whining and he loved it. He was grinning and getting faster and harder with his thrusts, hitting the prostate dead on each time and he was sure he was going to be bruised on his insides when they were done. He probably wouldn't be able to walk right for a few hours with wincing or hurting. He hoped that was the case. That would make him feel way more victorious and his ego would grow immensely.

 

      He was groaning under him, his voice getting hoarser each second. He was sounding cracky and rough, almost as rough as his Franks' normal tone.

      Castle let out a steady groan and reached the hand on the guys' hip lower, curving until he could reach his dick. He grabbed it and felt the other guys' body jolt in surprise and pleasure. He let out a sort of loud moan too, a pitch or two higher.

      Frank started to roughly stroke him in time with his hard thrusts, meeting in the middle with the guy still pushing back on him. There was so much damn friction that he was worried that he'd burst first. That wasn't gonna happen, not until the other let it out. He wouldn't be the pre-mature one.

      His grip was tight, hot and clammy on him and he clenched a few times with each hard stroke, milking his thick dick. He was a bit above average size, but Frank was still bigger. He would've need four fingers to even loosen him enough, without the fisting added.

      He could feel it, the boiling warmth spreading in his groin and getting thicker and thicker pretty fast. Frank lowered his head, his forehead coming into contact with a clammy shoulder and he groaned into his skin, getting faster and rougher and stronger and way more animalistic with his hand and hips. He was more than sure that he'd be bruised, both of them and it was just from the sheer force he was using. The guy was yelling, now unable to hold his voice. He was whimpering, sobbing, whining and moaning. He'd tried biting the sheets again, but it didn't muffle anything.

      Frank felt a hard and almost painful clamping on his dick and heard the guy let out one last loud moan, his back arching hard up against him and his shuddered violently. He came there, all over his hand and the sheets and the grip on his cock just grew and paused, the shudder vibrating through him and he blew inside, a yell of his own leaving his lips and hitting heated and sweaty skin. It was deep, rough, throat soring and he panted harshly right after, feeling the dude writhe again, but from managing to stay up on his arms and knees.

      He waited a few seconds, trying to calm his breathing while his high, which wasn't easy. The guy under him actually couldn't. He was wrecked and shaking, his muscles and body definitely not used to what he just gave him. He was immensely proud of himself.

      Castle let one last eased sigh through his lips before straining to push himself up. He was aching, his body clearly wrecked too, but because he'd been fighting and all that shit. He was sure he opened a few injuries and was thinking on asking the guy to re-stitch them if he wasn't too pissed about opening them again in the first place.

      He sat up and shifted his hips back, gradually pulling his spent dick from the guys' hole. He noted the gasp and low breathing. He was in total bliss right now and he had to smirk at him. He liked this, the guy... he liked this guy, and definitely more so when he was completely out of it and on cloud-9.

      Castle reached down in front of him, to the guys' pants and he softly pulled them back up his thighs and over his ass, leaving the threads untied. He caressed his hip for a few seconds before shifting back until he could push himself up to stand, pulling his borrowed bedpants up. He eyed him, staring down at him. He was still breathing harshly, but it was eased a little compared to just now. He saw him slowly and carefully gather himself, moving to lie on his side with his legs stretching out to hang over the edge of the bed, his calves between Franks' thick, strong legs.

      His eyes widened and he shot his eyes to the widow to his side, having heard it open and he saw Red standing there, not really looking at them, but standing there, clearly aware of what they did. He wasn't even ashamed, didn't need to be, wasn't at all. He was way to proud right now and the smirk on his face showed it.

 

      "Well, that's one way to keep him here," he commented emotionlessly and Frank turned to look at the still tired body lying on the bed, but his eyes were open now, half-lidded and clearly half dead to everything as of right now.

      "Shut up," was his answer, he didn't sound shamed either, he was more exhausted than anything. He didn't sound regretful, which he was happy about.

      "You okay, Hale?" Hale? Was that his name? It fitted him. It sounded nice and wild, something this guy clearly was.

      "Other than feeling like I just took a train up the ass? Yeah, perfectly fine," and that was a definite ego boost. "Both of you get out," he ordered without any fire behind his words. Hale wanted sleep for sure, maybe a few painkillers, maybe even morphine. He would definitely need to rest after this and he really hoped he could come back here.

      "C'mon," he glanced over to Red, seeing the out-stretched arm gesturing to the window. "If you can manage to get him to bottom for you, you can easily follow me over the roofs to a safe-house," this was a good enough safe-house, but... not for the Punisher. He'd be found and Hale would be in deep shit because of him.

      "Can pretty-boy visit?" he asked with a smirk, hearing a strange growl leave the guy on the bed. It was an actual growl which caught his interest, or more of it, sine he had most of it anyway.

      "If you get hurt again, then yeah,"

      "Good," he commented, a clear smug grin growing on his face. He reached down and patted the guys' hip, hearing him groan, a bit from pain. "See ya 'round, sweetheart,"

      "I hate you both," again, there was no heat behind his statement and he could only grin and give a deep chuckle before leaving through the window, he was tempted to re-open more wounds just to be turned around and taken back. He really liked that puppy.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope ya'll enjoyed this as much as I did writing and re-reading it. Sorry if there's a mistake or two. I never really beta my work. 
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you think. I like hearing or reading others opinions. It gives me a better idea on what you like and I sometimes get fun conversations from you guys. Thank you!!!
> 
> Again, hope you enjoyed this. :)


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